Search This Blog & Get A Rife

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Noboko & Andrew: Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy

Okay... back to Noboko and myself. I've just purchased an expensive (for me) blue sapphire ring with diamond chips on 18K yellow gold ring and a pair of matching earrings... I called it my pre-engagement ring, and when I gave it to her yesterday - the jewelery, that is - she laughed as she put it on and told me the next ring better be diamonds, implying she wants me to get her an engagement ring so we can be husband and wife eventually.

That thought doesn't scare me in the least.

Noboko is funny, sweet, a tiger in the sack, beautiful, intelligent and all mine. Except that she also belongs to Japan and her father.

She is still afraid to tell her parents that I want to marry her and she wants to marry me... as far as everyone is concerned, she and I are just friends, with no hanky-panky involved.

But that's just dumb.

The neighbors down in apartment 207, also own the sake shop directly below.When they see an uber-attractive young Japanese woman silently slink up the stairs past the side of the shop, the obvious thing to do is watch her pretty legs as they disappear around the corner of the rounded stairway... noting that the tippy-tappy of her heels suddenly stops a mere one floor above their apartment.

They can hear her tapping, gently rapping at my chamber door like some raven... and they can hear my big steel door slide outwards in opening, hearing it close with a gentle bang.

But that's all they can hear.

I live in an atypical Japanese apartment. The floors are cement and are thick. I can rarely hear the neighbors walk above me, and aside from my loud music that I play on the weekends, I doubt the neighbors can hear any screams of passion uttered from Noboko's pouty lips - nor from any of the other women who have been my dates over the years.

I live in a sound-proof box... but of course, I'm a gaijin.

It means people are always watching to see who I am with or who is entering my abode and who exits it several hours later. It doesn't bother me, but I can see how my living in a goldfish bowl can be quite unnerving for those visiting it.

I want to be with Noboko now and forever. I want to be her husband and I want her to be my wife.

I think Noboko would like nothing more than to be with me, too, but the ever present omnipresence of her father is something we have to deal with.

I don't think he thinks he's a problem, but Noboko does... fearing what his reaction will be.... fearing what her engagement to a gaijin would mean to his career (not all that much, I fear, but she fears...).

The next few days of our life goes swiftly by... nothing stands out one way or the other... it's just all bliss and happiness as Noboko drifts over to my apartment everyday after work... we eat together... we talk... but not about the future... we just talk... sometimes we kiss... maybe we make love... always we are touching each other with a part of our body... just sitting on the couch, she drapes herself atop me and I lose control of the blood flow to my brain.

We just are.

Next blog about us... I have to screw things up. Man I hate writing about this time in my life... actually, I hate writing about the past so much...

Andrew Joseph


  1. You better keep going. This shit is getting good.

  2. Ok I think that came out wrong. Forgetting about the actual ending I'm actually reading this hoping you get Noboko.

    1. I wonder how it will end? Not with a bang, but a whimper?

  3. Maybe with lots of money in your pockets. Just saying and doing it is two big things but personally these stories you write can easily be a novel. I never read actual novel books but these stories are really sucking me in. This I would read as a novel or at least in book form. My thoughts to a friend.